


After Hours

by ddagent



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: (sort of), Character Study, F/F, Gen, Staff night out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: The staff at Cackle's have gone to the local pub for a night out. Hecate would rather be anywhere else.





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NaNoWriMo so many moons ago. Set sometime during series one. Hope you enjoy!

In an ideal world, Hecate Hardbroom would spend Friday night in her office; marking homework and making the rounds. However, _this_ was _not_ an ideal world. An ideal world did _not_ include _The Coven,_ a nearby witching pub with a bewitched juke box and drinks the colour of neon. An ideal world did _not_ include balancing on an uneven stool in front of a sticky table whilst a cocktail producing fog was slid in front of her. In an ideal world, colleagues would be colleagues. There would be no need for… _fraternisation._

“Drink up, HB!” Miss Drill smacked a hand across her shoulder blades, nearly pushing Hecate into something called ‘sex on a broom’. “Miss Cackle’s buying all night!”

Four pairs of eyes swivelled in her direction, waiting for her to down the drink in front of her. Hecate wrinkled her nose as she lifted the glass by its stem. There was salt around the rim, a welcome balm to the inordinate sweetness of the drink itself. She winced with every mouthful; the alcohol burning as it travelled down her oesophagus. Hecate placed the empty glass back on the table. She thought her torment over. But it had just begun. A shot glass was shoved into her hand by Miss Bat and a toast was made.

“To Cackle’s!”

Hecate rolled her eyes before draining the shot in one gulp. “To Cackle’s.”

Cheers erupted from the table. Miss Drill was in her element. Ada was ordering a second drink. Even Miss Bat – quiet Miss Bat who rarely said boo to a ghost – was enjoying herself. She and Mister Rowan-Webb made quite the pair; leaving the table in favour of the dancefloor. _The Coven_ was the only witching establishment within the area, and as such it was a regular for the Cackle’s staff on a Friday night. Joining them were other local witches; a few college students letting their hair down. And, to Hecate’s surprise and instant fury, Miss Agatha Nox.

Miss Nox, a final year at Cackle’s, was about to drink a curious green substance from a shot glass. Hecate reached out, grabbed Miss Nox’s hand, and pulled it anti-clockwise away from her mouth. All colour drained from her face when she realised who had stopped her. “Miss-Miss Hardbroom.”

“Miss Nox. Enjoying yourself?”

“I-I-“

Hecate waved her hand. Instantly the shot glass disappeared and Miss Nox’s dress returned to the familiar charcoal grey nightgown. “We shall discuss this _later._ To bed with you, Miss Nox.”

A simple transference spell sent the terrified Miss Nox back to her room; a binding spell preventing her from sneaking out again. Hecate returned to their table, staring pointedly at Ada. “We will have to make an example of her. Such breaches should not be treated lightly.”

“I agree, Hecate, and we will deal with Miss Nox in the morning.” Hecate had rather hoped they would return to the school now that their pupils were so blatantly out of control. Instead, Ada pushed a pink drink with an umbrella in her direction. “But for tonight, we should enjoy ourselves.”

“Ada, I really must protest.” Her headmistress kept inching the pink drink ever closer to Hecate’s hand. “The girls are obviously running amok!”

Ada gave her a look; the effect dampened quite considerably by her flushed cheeks. “Now, _Hecate_ , this is not the first time Agatha Nox has snuck out of bed. Nor, I’m sure, will it be the last. We have not left the girls unprotected. Miss Moonfall is conducting rounds this evening. Mildred Hubble has the flu and can’t get into _any_ trouble. So _drink_. And enjoy yourself!”

Arguing would be a waste of energy and vowels. Ada had been looking forward to their staff outing for weeks, and was making the most of it with her third cocktail of the night. Arguing that Miss Moonfall was too soft to properly discipline the girls would do no good. Suggesting that, even with the flu, Mildred Hubble could still get into trouble would also fall on deaf ears.

“ _Fine_.” Hecate relented; accepting she had no choice but to _enjoy herself._ She took a sip of the pink drink; scrunching her face in disgust. “What _is_ this?”

“Fun!” Ada said, reaching over to place the drink’s umbrella in Hecate’s bun. “You might wish to visit the concept sometime.”

Hecate had _fun._ Cataloguing the potions lab was _fun_. Discussing new disciplinary techniques with others in the Witch Academy Network was _fun_. Dancing to the stylings of Heather Howler was _not_. Trying _The Coven’s_ new cocktail menu – each more lurid and sugary than the last – was _not_. Hecate was grateful when her colleagues dispersed, leaving her alone with a glass of ice water. Turn off the music, clean the table, present her with a nice book… _this_ could be fun.

“Hi, I love your shoes!”

Hecate sniffed. She did not care for small talk, or strangers. “If you must.”

Rather than consider herself dismissed, the stranger took the liberty of occupying Ada’s recently vacated seat. Hecate sized up the interloper. She was young, perhaps half Hecate’s age and a few more besides. Blonde curls poured over the shoulders of her dress. It was cut high across her thigh, revealing socks rather than stockings. Hecate was sure her glare would dissuade the young witch from continuing her conversation. Instead, she just smiled.

“Well met, sister. I’m Winnie. And you are?”

“Unclear as to why you are sitting at my table.”

She laughed. Hecate ignored her; instead occupying herself with the cat tail stirrer in her ice water. She did not pay attention to Winnie’s ample bosom. Or the inches of milky thigh on display. But Hecate could feel Winnie’s interest in her. Warm, dark eyes travelling across the lines of her dress; lingering at the pocket watch between her breasts. A hand, nails blood red and buffed, brushed Hecate’s own.

“I was hoping to get to know you.”

Ice clinked against her teeth as Hecate took a drink. “For the purpose of-“

“Seducing you.” Winnie slid closer. “I’ve seen you in here before. All long legs and red lips. I know you’re a _traditional_ witch. Looking into the coven rather than outside it. You try not to stare but you do. It’s alright. I’ve been staring too.”

Hecate turned, witnessing the young woman drag her tongue across her bottom lip; her eyes burning a path through Hecate’s dress. She was young, pretty, enthusiastic. Hecate could quite imagine tugging at those blonde curls until she went down on her knees; could picture those blood red nails sinking in and out of swollen flesh. It wasn’t that she wasn’t tempted. Gone was the time Hecate could use her own in potions requiring the _blood of a virgin._ Gone was the time Hecate felt disgusted, repulsed by her attraction to a fellow witch. But she had a reputation to uphold. She would never live it down in the staff room if she took a young witch to bed.

“Be that as it may, I am unable to take you up on your…offer.” Hecate swallowed, relief and disappointment washing through her. “Well met, sister.”

Hecate and her ice water left the young witch and took up post at the bar. It did not take long for Winnie to find someone else to flirt with; another young witch who was _more_ than receptive to her charms. Whether she was genuinely interested in Hecate, or whether it was a cruel ruse to amuse her friends, she did not know. But Hecate was better off by the bar, sipping her water, perusing a copy of _The Spell Caster_ someone had left behind.

A throat cleared. She turned, met by a pink cheeked Ada Cackle. She looked at Hecate as if she was Mildred Hubble. Kind, yet disappointed. “You saw, then.”

“Fun can take many forms, Hecate. A sugary drink, a boogie on the dancefloor. A night with a beautiful young witch.“ She looked at Hecate over the rim of her spectacles. “No one will judge you; no one will think less of you.”

“ _I_ will.”

Ada patted Hecate awkwardly on the shoulder. “Perhaps next time you’ll find something here you enjoy. For now, why don’t you head back to the castle? Relieve Miss Moonfall?”

“ _Finally._ ”

Hecate did not have to be asked twice. A quick transference spell saw _The Coven_ dissolve and replaced by the familiar halls of Cackle’s. She felt the tension drop from her shoulders almost immediately at the smell of limestone, cat fur, and _magic._ And, unfortunately, the smell of burning potion.

“Mildred Hubble!”

The usual suspects all jumped when she suddenly appeared in the potions lab. Her smile, wide and bright, seemed to disturb them most of all. Despite Ada’s thoughts to the contrary, _this_ really was her idea of fun. 


End file.
